


five ways to say i love you

by greatwonfidence



Category: Asagao Academy: Normal Boots Club, Hidden Block (Video Blogging RPF)
Genre: Abusive Parent, Can be seen as platonic, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, M/M, or maybe they're all dating, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 16:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15610743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greatwonfidence/pseuds/greatwonfidence
Summary: everyone needs a little help sometimes.





	five ways to say i love you

**Author's Note:**

> this is sappy and wildly self-indulgent but if one (1) other person likes it then it is a success in my book

i.

Ian does not feel like himself.

He’s always had a sort of morose, somber demeanor. That may be the root of the common misconception that he hates everyone; he just can’t help that he looks absent during conversations. He’s no stranger to having people snap him out of a daydream, concerned that something might be wrong. Normally, no, he’s fine.

But the past few days have been different, somehow. He’s felt like he was walking through a fog for the better part of a week, but despite him assuring his friends he’s alright, he knows he isn’t.

Jeff can tell, though. Maybe it’s just because they’re roommates and spend so much time together, but he’d like to think that it’s because he knows Ian better than others do. He watches out of the corner of his eye at the lunch table and sees him, looking exhausted and distracted, barely touching his food, and his motherly instincts involuntarily flare up. He plans to talk to him after practice, so they’re alone, but when Jeff gets back to the dorm room that night, Ian is already fast asleep. He sighs, turns off the light, and resolves to speak the next day instead.

 

“Can you get that, please?” Ian whines with his face smushed into the pillow. He waits for Jeff to pause getting dressed and silence the alarm before giving him a grateful thumbs up.

“You getting up, dude?” Jeff asks. He looks at the clock while he messes with his hair. “Too late to get breakfast now, but, y’know, class.”

“Mm. Not going today.”

Red flag. Jeff keeps his back turned while he buttons up his shirt. He searches for something safe to say, and settles on “Are you sick?”

“Just tired.” When Jeff turns around, Ian has rolled over in bed to face the wall.

“Okay. I’ll get chem notes for you.” Jeff slings his backpack over his shoulder. “Make sure you get something to eat, okay? And drink lots of water.”

“Go to class, Jeff,” Ian mumbles. Jeff nods, a little embarrassed, and leaves.

Ian never skips class. He’s not often up early and has been late, of course, but he never straight-up _skips_. Jeff has seen him go through class half-asleep in a sick daze and pass out the second they get back to the room. But he looked much worse then than he did this morning.

Jeff tries to clear his head as he walks to class. He catches up with Jimmy and Caddy on the way out of the dorm, shouting at them to wait.

“Hey, Jeff. Hey, Ian.” Caddy calls back without turning around. Jimmy notices he‘s without his roommate.

“Where’s Ian?” he asks, without a greeting. Jeff shoots him a look.

“Glad you guys are happy to see me,” he grumbles. Caddy looks embarrassed for a moment when he realizes, rubbing his neck.

“Sorry, man.” His apologetic half-smile is quickly replaced by his usual shit-eating grin. “Good morning, Jeff. How are _you_ doing, _Jeff?”_

He laughs and pushes Caddy’s shoulder. “Screw you. I think Ian’s just feeling under the weather. I’m sure he’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“That sucks,” Jimmy sympathizes.

“Tell him get better from me.” Caddy gives him a clap on the back, and then he and Jimmy return to their previous conversation. Jeff doesn’t like lying to his friends, and he’d feel better if he talked about his worries; but he figures reaching out to Ian directly himself is the best way to deal with it.

 

Taking two sets of notes at the rate their chemistry teacher speaks is a struggle and a feat he’s proud to have accomplished. It’s only when the bell rings that he realizes he could’ve just given Ian his own notes to copy later on.

 

Jeff stops at Asagao’s dining hall after classes end to buy his dinner for later, knowing he’ll be out of soccer practice too late to get food. He grabs himself a sandwich and decides last second to look around for something for Ian, too - they’re serving spaghetti, which isn’t his favorite, but for hot food it’s that or a shitty microwave meal. Hot food is good when you’re upset, right? He probably read that somewhere. He carries the styrofoam box of pasta carefully, sandwich balanced on top.

He gets back to the room a little earlier than he usually does. Normally he’ll hang out with Austin until it’s soccer time, and then run back and get his uniform. Ian must’ve remembered that, because he’s caught terribly off guard when Jeff, cheerful greeting stuck in his throat, opens the door to see him sitting on his bed and crying.

“Oh, shit, you’re back.” Ian hurries to wipe his face with his sleeve, erase any evidence of fragility. Jeff doesn’t know what to say. “I, uh. How was class?”

“Fine.” Jeff says innocuously. He shuts the door behind himself and takes the situation cautiously. “Caddy and Jimmy said they hope you feel better. And I brought you some food, it’s spaghetti.”

“Oh,” Ian says. “Thanks, but I’m not really hungry. You didn’t have-“

“Yes, I did, because I know you.” Jeff places the box on Ian’s desk and puts on his best authoritative voice. “I’m sure you didn’t leave the room today, which means you didn’t eat. And you barely ate yesterday. You need to take care of yourself, even when you’re down.”

Ian doesn’t answer. Jeff looks into his glistening eyes and at his puffy red cheeks and he just looks so sad, so pitiful. Jeff sits down next to him on the bed.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” he asks. Ian sighs and rubs his eyes again. He doesn’t have the energy to be his sarcastic self about this, so he’s candidly self-deprecative instead.

“It’s stupid. It’s so, so stupid, I don’t even wanna bother.”

“Ian, come on. I wanna help you. It hurts to see you like this.”

Ian clasps his hands together and starts speaking, eyes trained on the floor. “Okay. It’s... it’s my sister.” Jeff’s eyes go wide, so he quickly corrects himself. “No, no, nothing bad happened to her. Good things, actually. You know, I told you that she’s getting married and has a baby on the way. She’s really...”

It’s hard to word what he feels when he hasn’t thought of vocalizing it before. Jeff waits patiently for him.

“I don’t know. We were so close. We spent pretty much all of our time together growing up. And now she’s doing all these great things while I’m away. I feel like... like I held her back? Or she’s better off without me around, or-“

“Ian.” Jeff has to interrupt. “That’s kinda crazy, don’t you think?”

Ian covers his face with his hands, already regretting it. Jeff rubs his back gently and continues. “I mean, you’re _you_. I can’t imagine you ever making someone’s life _worse._ Your sister loves you, and I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to be feeling like this.”

Ian shrugs. “I know, it’s dumb. I think it’s just that I miss us being such a big part of each other’s lives. She’s all the way across the country now, you know? I don’t think I’m gonna get the chance to visit until the holidays.”

“It’s not dumb at all, dude. Don’t think like that.” Jeff furrows his brows. “Have you called and talked to her about this?”

“No! God, no. I don’t want to make her feel bad for me. I haven’t called her at all since move-in.”

Jeff has never dealt with missing someone so intensely. He misses his parents during the school year, yes, but being at Asagao has brought him a sort of freedom that he couldn’t get at home; so he’s grateful for the time away. He also doesn’t think he’s ever been quite as close with someone as Ian and his sister are.

“Maybe you should call her and let her know you miss her,” he suggests. “It’s been a couple months since the school year started. She’d probably like to hear from you, don’t you think?”

He shakes his head. “She’s gotta be busy. I don’t want to pull her away from her own life. Working and wedding planning and stuff, to what, hear me complain about classes?”

“I’m a hundred percent sure she wouldn’t mind taking a few minutes’ break to talk to her best friend.” Jeff picks up Ian’s phone from the bedside table and puts it into his hands. “And I’m willing to bet she misses you like crazy, too.”

Ian takes a deep breath, then nods. “You’re right. I’m gonna call her.”

“Good. I gotta go to practice. Don’t forget about your food, too. I’ll know if you don’t eat it.” He points two fingers at Ian threateningly. He shakes his head and sets to work finding her contact name in his phone while Jeff gathers up his things.

“Thanks, Jeff. I really appreciate it.”

Jeff smiles warmly. “No problem, man. Anytime you have a problem, you can talk to me, okay?”

Ian nods and taps his phone one more time, bringing it to his ear. She picks up quickly.

“Hey, it’s me. Hi. I- No, nothing’s wrong. I just...uh, I miss you, is all.”

Jeff glances back one more time before he leaves and is pleased to see Ian trying to hide a smile as he listens to his sister’s voice.

 

 

ii.

Jeff doesn’t cry much. He can probably count the number of times he’s cried in the past five years on one hand. He tears up when it’s appropriate, sure, but actually crying? Red-faced, involuntarily-shaking crying? Not so often.

In fact, despite being close friends with him for about four years now, Austin has never seen Jeff really cry. Not when Jeff failed a class he worked incredibly hard to pass, not when Austin accompanied him to a relative’s funeral, not when the girl he really liked stood him up. Never. He takes everything in stride by taking a deep breath and only looking forward.

Austin, on the other hand, cries a _lot._ He likes to describe it as “being in touch with his emotions,” to which Jeff jokingly tells him it’s time to cut contact. Austin isn’t afraid to openly sob when they watch sad movies together, or when he talks about a happy memory from home. He even cries at small things sometimes, like animal commercials and receiving gifts.

“I’m busy being stressed out about other things. I don’t have time to worry about people seeing me as weak or vulnerable or whatever, which isn’t even a bad thing.” Austin says one night, when they’re having a sleepover. “I think you never cry in front of people because you just don’t like to be vulnerable.”

“Who does?” Jeff dismisses with a laugh. But truthfully, he thinks about what Austin said a lot. He has that effect on him, it seems; Austin may seem like a total goofball to the rest of the student population, but when you get to know him, he’s incredibly smart with a lot of great ideals. There’s merit to the things he believes in, and Jeff really likes that about him.

 

In addition to rarely crying, Jeff also doesn’t get hurt much. So when he gets nailed in the face by an opposing team member’s elbow and falls back and hits the ground so hard it rattles his skull and he passes out, he and others are reasonably upset.

The second he comes to, Austin’s worry-filled face is all he can see.

“Jeff! Are you okay?!” he shouts frantically. He can hear whistles and a buzz of voices from the stands. It’s hard to focus on Austin’s words with how much his face hurts.

“Oh, fuck.” Jeff hovers his fingers over his bleeding nose, terrified to actually touch it. “I think my nose is broken.”

He hears someone else’s voice - Coach’s? - and then Austin’s yelling at them to get away and call the nurse. Someone else hands Austin a cloth and Jeff takes it with shaking hands, visibly overwhelmed by the mix of pain and too many eyes on him. _Vulnerable_ , he can remember Austin saying. That’s the best possible word to describe lying in the middle of a soccer field with your face covered in blood is. Right next to _embarrassing_. He can feel his own eyes start to water involuntarily, despite his internal struggle to calm down.

“Oh no, no, don’t cry,” Austin frets, taking his free hand and squeezing it. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Does your head hurt or is it just your nose? You hit the ground hard.”

“I-I don’t know, I can’t think.” Jeff squeezes his eyes shut in a weak attempt to prevent himself from crying. It hurts to hold the cloth over his nose, but he’s grateful for anything that makes him look even slightly less of a total mess.

“Don’t sit up if you don’t think you can.” Jeff nods, sniffling. Austin moves from kneeling next to him to sitting cross-legged on the grass. “I’m not going anywhere. You were only out for like, three seconds. Everything’s gonna be fine, Joof.”

“It hurts a lot,” Jeff laughs weakly. Austin wipes hot tears from his dirty face for him, then looks up and waves to someone.

“You’re okay. The nurse is here with a wheelchair, we’ll get you fixed up, alright?”

“A wheelchair… that’s embarrassing.” Jeff groans, pulling the bloodied cloth away from his face and folding it to press a clean part back on.

“It would be more embarrassing if you just, like, straight-up died.” Austin tells him, putting on his best serious face. “What a terrible team captain I’d be, then.”

The two laugh. Jeff tries to focus on the nurse’s instructions and questions, but he can’t help listening to Austin argue his case for staying with Jeff rather than continuing in the game. He doesn’t make any good points, but the coach lets him accompany him to the nurse’s office anyways. Austin bows and blows a kiss to the audience as they leave, drawing attention away from crying Jeff and to himself instead, which he is more grateful for than he can express.

 

His nose isn’t broken, but it does bruise and ache for a long time. The pair have to hang around the nurse’s office for nearly an hour while the coach files an injury report and the nurse gets in contact with his parents.

“It’s stupid they have to call my mom about this,” he says after giving up on eavesdropping through a wall. Austin looks up from where he’s sitting on the floor next to the bed and shrugs.

“I guess it’s mandastory or whatever.”

“Mandastory?” Jeff snickers.

“Is that not the word? For like, you have to do it.”

“Mandatory.”

“Oh. Whatever, dude, I was close.”

They laugh about it, but there’s something in the way that Austin’s chuckle dies quickly and he hugs his knees closer to his chest that feels off.

“You okay, Peebs?” Jeff asks. Austin nods.

“Yeah, I’m just thinking about that stupid guy that hit you. He totally did it on purpose.”

“You think so?” Jeff would be inclined to disagree. It seemed to him like just a random arm flail and he was in the wrong place.

“I don’t know. He hit you really hard for an accident, that’s all I’m saying.” He turns to look at Jeff, hands balled into fists. “I should’ve punched him for it. I didn’t even yell at him or anything, I just rushed right to you. I should’ve-“

“You didn’t do anything wrong, dude.” Jeff reaches his hand down and Austin takes it, squeezing. “You’d have gotten in trouble if you got violent. I’m positive it was an accident. You dealt with the situation by making sure I was okay, and I’m really grateful for that.”

Austin nods slowly and, in typical fashion, starts to tear up.

“No! Don’t cry!”

“I can’t help it! You got hurt and it was scary!”

“I’m okay, I’ll be all set to play in a few days!” Austin’s lip quivers and Jeff caves, smiling and opening his arms. “Oh, come here, you baby.”

Austin climbs up onto the bed and Jeff lets him hug him as tight as he needs to, patting his back and assuring him he’s fine.

 

 

iii.

Any Asagao student could tell you about Austin’s confident demeanor on his radio show. Not everyone listens every week, but if you go to the school, you’ve definitely tuned into an episode or two.

But it’s hard to speak to so many people alone. It’s a little stressful to try and keep everything running smoothly, to not have any dead air, to answer callers in a calm and thoughtful manner.

He likes the praise he gets from it, though. Hearing people buzz about the previous night’s broadcast while he walks around campus, or when students begin their call with a compliment - he loves every second of it. So he keeps on, even when it’s hard.

He knows when to ask for help when he needs it. One week he’s late collecting topics and he knows this is where the downward slope begins. It doesn’t feel as manageable as it usually does, so to alleviate himself of one responsibility, he asks Jared if he’d be willing to come in and man the soundboard for him. Jared agrees instantly, thanking Austin for thinking of him.

“You’re really saving me here,” Austin says happily, pulling him into an embrace. Jared’s caught off guard at first, but brings his arms up after a moment as well.

 

Jared has used the soundboard before. His DnD group plays primarily in secret, but they recorded a session in this studio for fun once, so he’s familiar with the equipment. He still listens back to it from time to time, but he’d deny it if anyone asked.

He and Austin get to the studio thirty minutes before he’s supposed to go live. Austin only needs to give a bit of guidance on minor specifics, and they’re all set to go on the technical end. Jared sips a smoothie while Austin looks over a few pieces of paper.

“What are your topics today?” Jared asks. Austin jumps, having been totally spaced out.

“Oh- uh,” he shakes his head to clear it and flips the first page back to the front. “I was gonna talk about the new Gintendo console that’s coming out. I have notes comparing it to the last two. And then I have a review of that multiplayer adventure game that came out last week. And then...” He shrugs, making an uncomfortable face. “Viewer calls?”

“That sounds good,” Jared assures him. Austin shakes his head a tad - so subtly Jared isn’t sure he really did until he speaks.

“It’s bad. It’s sparse, it’s- there’s like, nothing.” He sighs. “Usually I have like four subjects and a topic for viewer calls, but I’ve got nothing this week. It sucks.” He slams the papers down onto the table.

Jared is taken aback. Austin isn’t boastful or arrogant about his show, but he knows people enjoy listening as much as he has fun making the show. So for him to be bashing himself like this… it’s strange.

“Deep breath, buddy.” Jared pushes his smoothie across the table. “Have some smoothie.”

“I’m too anxious for smoothie!” Austin pushes it back.

“Okay, sorry, sorry.” Jared runs a hand through his hair and checks the clock. Eight minutes till air. Austin puts his hand over his own chest, trying to breathe deeply.

Jared looks over the soundboard’s key and finds the right button. He taps it and grins at the robotic _“you can do it!”_ voice the machine emits.

Austin stares at him blankly, and for a moment he’s unsure if the joke landed the way he wanted it to. But Austin’s composure wavers and he bursts into laughter, and Jared joins in.

“That genuinely made me feel better. Thank you.” Austin grins and checks the clock. Four minutes. “I just feel like this isn’t enough, like people expect more from me. You know?”

Jared knows.

“You just have to do your best and hope that people will understand that.” Jared drums his fingers against the tabletop. “I don’t think you can ever be as bad as you think you will be, though. And I sincerely doubt you’ll lose viewers over one _meh_ episode. If anything, you’ll just know what you have to do better with next time.”

Austin bites his lip, taking it all in.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Jared.”

“No problem, buddy. Good to start in two?”

“Yes!” Austin quickly puts his headphones on and reshuffles his papers. Both of them keep their eyes on the clock’s countdown.

It goes smoothly. Jared’s confidence is contagious, and Austin makes a mental note to ask Jared to be a speaking guest next time.

  

 

iv.

Jared is, to put it simply, going fucking crazy.

The time he has left to find a partner for his tea ceremony is _rapidly_ dwindling. Traditionally, he’s supposed to bring a girl. But the way things are, how everything stands - the last thing he wants is to loop some poor girl into the mess that is his family. The rational thing to do would be to ask someone he knows.

His roommate, Satch, wouldn’t be a good idea. He has so much work to do and the ceremony will require too much practice. He knows Satch would be happy to help, but he wouldn’t want to put this on him.

Austin? No, he’s got his show and soccer. They still have to make it into the finals. Jared doesn’t personally see the appeal to sports, but it’s important to him, so he won’t ask Austin to take his attention away from it.

Jeff? Maybe? Jeff is reliable. He’s got soccer, but that’s it as far as he knows. Jeff is understanding and adaptive and would totally be willing to help.

Yes, Jeff. Jeff will help.

Jared is so excited about having this weight lifted off of him that he runs in the halls of the dorm. He rounds the familiar corner to Jeff and Ian’s room and unexpectedly runs directly into the latter as he’s shutting the door.

“Fuck!” Ian shouts, rubbing his forehead.

“Oh- oh God, sorry, Ian!” Jared frantically waves his arms in a defensive position, ignoring the throbbing pain in his own head. “I didn’t mean to. I just have to talk to Jeff.”

“You, uh, can’t right now.” Ian steps backwards to block the doorway.

“What? Why not?”

“He’s on the phone with his mom. You know, after the whole soccer accident thing, she’s taking it seriously and wants him to go to an actual doctor.”

“That seems unnecessary.” Jared grumbles, tapping his foot impatiently. “Doesn’t trust the nurse to diagnose a concussion? That’s such a mother thing.”

Ian shrugs with a smile, putting his hands in his pockets. “I guess. What’s up? You look out of breath.”

There’s a hint of concern in his teasing. Ian can see right through everyone’s bullshit, unfortunately, so there’s no point in lying to him.

“I’m in a lot of trouble,” Jared admits, quietly. Ian’s expression drops and he beckons for Jared to follow him.

“Let’s go get some food, then.”

 

In a quiet corner of the cafeteria, Jared confesses his problem. Ian’s relieved to know that his trouble isn’t legal in nature.

“You made it sound bad! Like you broke a law or something.” Ian says, taking a bite of his sandwich.

“It _is_ bad!” Jared insists, exasperated. He drops his face into his hands. “I shouldn’t have waited so long. I need to find someone that’ll perform it with me. I can’t disappoint my mother with this, I _can’t.”_

He looks back up and Ian’s staring at him with a sympathetic look. He hates it. He hates being pitied and felt sorry for.

“I’ve wasted enough of your time with this,” he decides, picking up his tray to leave. Ian grabs his wrist before he can go.

“I’ll do it,” he says, quickly, like he can’t risk the words not coming out. “I wanna help. Let me help you.”

“Really?” Jared asks. “Not just out of pity, right? Because it’s a lot of work, a ton of practice-“

“I really want to.” Ian averts his gaze, a touch embarrassed. “I’ve seen you do it a couple times before. I actually think it’s really cool. I’d love to learn. And it’ll help you out. So yes.” He nods. “I want to do it.”

Jared drops his tray and pulls him into a hug. Ian chuckles and pats his back.

 

It is a lot of practice. A bit more than Ian expected. But Jared isn’t cross with him for screwing up - he seems more upset with himself whenever Ian makes a mistake.

“I’m sorry,” Ian says, a lot.

“My fault.” Jared just moves everything back to the starting position. “You’re good. Retry.”

Ian gets it. After a few days of practice it’s almost natural, and he’s proud of the progress he’s made. But now it’s Jared who slips up, hands shaking as he lifts chinaware. The little _tink-tinks_ of the ceramic mock him, and he has to start over frequently.

“I’m sorry, Ian. I just need to be perfect.” He resets everything again.

“No problem, man, take your time,” Ian reassures.

He wonders where this discipline came from. He seems to just automatically absorb blame, as if he’s the cause of everything wrong. It’s strange, because Jared is externally so self-congratulating. He knows it’s a cover, of course - no stranger to the ‘fake it ‘till you make it’ approach - but for him to drop all defenses like this is disquieting.

 

Ian figures out where it came from when he and Jared go to his mother’s house.

She regards him coldly, turning away with no more than a fleeting glance at his bow of greeting. He can’t help but note how stiffly Jared stands whenever she is within sight.

“You’re okay,” Ian whispers to him. “Breathe. You’re fine.”

He hears Jared shakily exhale. He tries to release the tension in his shoulders, but there’s too many people around. Dressed up so fancy, too fancy to just see a stupid kid pour some tea.

“I know,” is all he says, looking at the back of his mother’s head as she sets up the table. Ian doesn’t press it further.

 

Once they’re seated and the ceremony begins, it’s alright. Jared’s chest is tight with an anxiety he hasn’t felt in a long while, but all he needs to do is look up at Ian’s smiling face and then it suddenly doesn’t feel so scary. The steps he would blank on during practice suddenly come back clearer than ever, and his arms don’t feel numb as they move elegantly around the table. He’s incredibly impressed with Ian’s performance as well; there’s no mistake in the entire ceremony.

When they finish and Jared’s ears stop ringing, they’re rewarded with a quiet clap. Jared’s mother even tells him he did _suitably_. Ian won’t quickly forget the way Jared’s entire demeanor lifted at what barely constituted as praise, like a starving child being promised food.

 

They sit outside in the garden, after everything is said and done and the distant family members and business partners have cleared out. Their train ride back to Asagao isn’t for another two hours, but Jared’s mother has already gone to bed and they don’t want to risk waking her. The sound of the stream running a few feet away makes for soothing background noise.

“Thank you so much for this,” Jared says, quietly, almost afraid to break the silence. He sounds so small, so unlike himself. Ian has to say something.

“I don’t like how she makes you act.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know,” Ian moves his hands around, grasping at the air for the words he’s looking for. “All shrunken down, nothing like yourself. As soon as you were near her you turned so subservient and accommodating, like- like you need her approval to know you’re worth something.”

Maybe the wrong thing to say. Jared looks almost hurt for a moment, and he looks Ian in the eyes.

“I do,” he says. “I absolutely need her approval. She’s my mother. You know how mothers are.”

“This isn’t how a mother should be towards her own kid, Jared. You _know_ you’re more than this, right?”

“I did well in the ceremony.” He chews his lip nervously. “I did what she asked of me.”

“What if you hadn’t done well?”

“Ian, I don’t want to get into-“

“Jared, I need you to tell me right now that you know you’re a good person.”

Jared stares at him. His voice shakes when he speaks again, tentatively.

“I… I am a good person.”

“And it doesn’t matter what your mom thinks, because you’re your own person, not hers.”

“And… I’m my own person, so what my mom thinks… d-doesn’t matter.”

Ian nods. “And you’re not worthless.”

“Ian-“

“Say it. Please.”

Jared sighs. “And I’m not worthless.”

“I hope you can learn to believe that. I don’t want anyone making you feel like you are.”

Ian lets up, allowing the quiet to come back over them. After a few minutes, Jared slides himself closer to Ian and lays his head on his shoulder.

“You’ve never made me feel worthless,” he says. Ian leans into the contact, smiling.

 

 

v.

The weekend after midterms, otherwise known as the two-day grace period between nonstop studying for weeks and getting assigned homework again, is filled with parties. Asagao has a strict no-alcohol policy, so a lot of them take place off campus. Caddy’s hosting one at a rented AirBnB, and while Austin, Jeff, Ian, andJared are invited, they all opt to spend their weekend differently.

With Dungeons and Dragons and Japanese barbecue, of course.

On the train, Jared insists he can’t reveal any information about the campaign he has planned, despite Jeff asking repeatedly. It’ll be Austin’s first time playing, and he’s more excited about writing his character’s backstory than anything else.

“I wanna be an elf!” he proclaims. “So... what can elves do?”

“Depends on their class,” Jared answers.

“Huh?”

“Elf is a race.” Ian tells him. “What class is your character gonna be?”

“Oh jeez.” Austin sits back down. “I’m gonna need some time.”

“Don’t worry about it right now, dude. I’ll help you with your character sheet when we get back to the dorm.” Jeff pats him on the shoulder. “Think about all the good food we’re gonna eat instead.”

Austin is quickly refilled with his fire, buzzing about what he got last time he went to the restaurant. Ian gazes out the window, counting the train stops.

“You excited?” Jared asks. Ian nods.

“Yeah. I’ve never been out this way.” He’s gone into the city west of Asagao, and he’s from the north, but they’re headed to the east. “It’s pretty. Way more trees than around school.”

“Yeah, it is beautiful.” Jared leans back in his seat with a smile.

 

They order a lot of food at the restaurant, even for four teenage boys. They share plates and eat from each other’s chopsticks, talk about things they hadn’t found time to in the fray of midterm exams.

Jared suggests a toast, lifting his glass. The others follow suit.

“I think we need to formally recognize Austin and Jeff for carrying their team to the finals,” he says. He adds with a grin, “Even with Jeff’s injury, he pulled through.”

Jeff rolls his eyes and does his best fake laugh. Austin gives Ian a look from across the table and Ian smacks Jared’s shoulder for him.

“I was joking! Jeez. Total joke. I love you, Jeff.”

“Love you too, asshole.”

“Anyways,” Jared swishes his glass around. “I’d also like to toast to Ian for stepping up and helping me out with my tea ceremony. I know I said it already, but really, you saved my ass and I can’t thank you enough for it.”

“Anytime, man,” Ian says. “But maybe next time pick something that requires less hundreds of hours of practice? Just a thought.”

“Of course, of course. To you guys!”

“Hey, wait, wait!” Austin interrupts. “What about you, dude? We gotta toast you, too.”

“You’re gonna have to think hard to find something toastable about me.” Jared says.

“Okay. Thinking.” Jeff pretends to ponder for half a second. “Ding! The fashion show was a huge success.”

“Yeah! Your fashion show was great!” Austin chimes in. Ian nods along.

“I didn’t really- that was like, a whole team effort. Not just me.” Jared dismisses it quickly and raises his glass higher, like they’ll give up.

“No, no,” Austin shakes his head. “You can’t dismiss that _huge_ accomplishment as a team effort right after toasting us for soccer. That was a team effort!“

“You not only walk in the show but you organize it, plan and execute rehearsals, pick and coordinate all the outfits...” Ian counts his points on his fingers. “You deserve the props for it. Just take the compliment.”

Jared can’t help but smile.

“Okay,” he mumbles. “To everybody.”

The boys clink their glasses together, cheering each other on. The night goes on with more stories and jokes. There’s a comfort in just being able to enjoy the presence of those you’re with, no matter the situation.

The server places the check in the center of the table, and as soon as her back turns, four hands are on top of it.

“I’m paying.”

“No, I’m paying.”

“I wanted to pay!”

“Give it to me, I’ll pay it.”

“Everybody take your hands off!”

“I’m gonna pay! Let go!”

It goes on for a while. Ian wins by feigning heading to the bathroom and just giving the server his card.

 

Their game of Dungeons and Dragons is ridiculously fun. Jared really is a great storyteller and he somehow manages to incorporate at least one of everyone’s ideas, but you wouldn’t know listening that it came from someone else; everything is intricately weaved into a plot he created.

Austin’s character nearly dies twice but his teammates refuse to let him go down easily. All of Ian’s magic is used healing him, and he only complains about it a little bit.

Jeff is the one to kill the monster deep inside the caverns they explore. Austin and Ian’s incapacitated characters cheer him on as his archer shoots the final arrow directly into its heart.

“And with the beast slain, peace returns to the village of Choria, and it’s all thanks to...” Jared pauses. “The... uh... Game Squad!”

“Game Squad?” Austin echoes, bursting into giggles.

“That’s where the narrative falls apart. Game Squad.” Ian laughs. “You built up this magical fantasy world and the group of people set out to fix it are called the Game Squad.”

“Shut up!” Jared throws a die at Ian. “You try DMing.”

“Maybe you should, Ian!” Jeff claps, overjoyed at the prospect. He puts on a gruff, dramatic trailer voice. “Welcome to the planet Downer. Population: Too Many.”

“The goal of my campaign is to not leave the town. If you do anything exciting, you die instantly.”

Austin grabs his friend’s arm. “Jeff, you and me should write one together!”

“Definitely, dude!”

Jared coughs. “I’m gonna need at least one compliment on the campaign I spent two weeks writing before we start talking about yours,” he huffs.

“Sorry, sorry. Round of applause for Jared!”

Austin starts it but it’s all genuine. The boys share their favorite parts of the story and thank Jared for DMing. They hang out in Austin’s room into the early hours of the morning, talking and laughing, dreaming of things bigger than Asagao can give them. If they all fall asleep there, nestled against pillows and blankets and each other, it’s alright, because the room is full of warmth and love and there’s no fault in basking in it.


End file.
